Frater
by Sepultus
Summary: Like a soft, newborn needs its mother; this young boy sitting before me needs to know that big brother's love is real.


**Frater**

I sit across from him, his large, dark ash eyes boring into my ash-blue ones. I know he is searching for some kind of reassurance, something to hold on to. He needs to know Big Brother loves him.

Like a soft, newborn needs its mother; this young boy sitting before me needs to know that Big Brother's love is real.

I have always felt something towards my brother. I knew, from the time mother brought him home, that I hated him. Everything, from his bushel of hair lain atop his head to the soles of his tiny feet, from his beating heart to the very colour of his skin, I hated. The very sight of him disgusted me in ways I never thought possible.

He was taking up my space. Taking mother away from me. He always cried, from sun up to sun down, crying and screaming. Mother was constantly tending to his _thing_ she randomly brought home.

I remember it clearly. The whole day seemed bright and hopeful and happy; pollen and insects and life filled the air and gave the day a great feeling. The sky couldn't have been any bluer; such a vivid, beautiful blue and the puffy clouds like cotton balls. The three of us were sitting on the front porch. I was drawing on the wooden planks with the chalk mother had brought for me the other day. She let my brother down from off her lap onto the planks next to me and told me to share my new chalk with him. I said nothing and put a green stick of chalk just out of his reach. He immediately reached for it, but found that he couldn't quite reach it. Mother, after watching him struggle for a minute, gave him the chalk and she gave me a peculiar look. I ignored her.

The boy examined the object, and like every baby, he put it straight into his mouth. Horrified, I turned to mother and asked sternly if she could take the boy back to wherever she got it from, for it's clearly stupid.

To this day, mother's expression never fails to make me die a little inside. Never did I see so much hurt in her eyes. I never wanted to cause her so much hurt. But time and time again, I had caused her to feel so much pain and disappointment. And all because of this boy I call my brother.

All the times I've been yelled at because of this boy I call my brother.

The times I've been disciplined because of this boy I call my brother.

The times I've made this boy cry, scream, hurt.

All the times I've made him feel less than human.

All the times I've tried to kill him, both physically and mentally.

All the times when he needed to be close to his Big Brother and I wouldn't let him.

And all the while, despite all the things I've done to this boy, said to this boy, he _still loves me_.

Despite everything, from my quick temper, my hateful glares and remarks, _everything_, this boy, my brother, my flesh and blood, still looks up to me. Still has enough pride in him to point me out to people and say, 'Hey. That's my Big Brother right there and I love him.'

And that's what kills me the most. This love I feel from him, that radiates out in all directions from him… It burns me, yet, at the same time, softens me, even if it's just a little bit. How could you hate… how could I hate something that has never wronged me?

…I can't say that I all have ever felt towards him was hatred, because then I would be lying. Somewhere, deep inside me, a love developed over the years, a special love, just for him. That reassures him every now and again and that cares. That tells him that everything will be all right in the end. That truly loves him.

But does my love outweigh my hatred?

The sun comes out from its hiding place behind the clouds and shines directly on his skin, making it glow a lovely cream colour. He continues to search my face, my eyes for that love.

Will he find it?

I smile a small smile, because I know he looking in the wrong place. My face won't tell you anything, brother. Neither will my eyes. You'll have to look at my heart, my soul.

Brother, what will you see, when you finally look at my heart? My soul? Will you see the black hate that has manifested itself from the very beginning?

Or will you see the love for you that I have let seed and flower in my heart?


End file.
